


pick me up

by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Canon Era, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Oblivious Arthur, POV Arthur, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24718054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/pseuds/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch
Summary: Arthur has a thing for Merlin picking up his stuff.Merlin takes notice.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 415





	pick me up

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something lighthearted and smutty and had a few hours on my hands, that's all this is about. I hope you enjoy!

Arthur likes it when Merlin picks his things up.

He’s been a “slob”, as his petulant manservant would say, his whole life, but as soon as Merlin entered his life, he started dropping his clothes on purpose all over his room; at first to get rise out of Merlin and maybe even a little to show him his place. But soon Arthur began to enjoy the side-effect of all the picking-up Merlin had to do on a daily basis.

Merlin _does_ have a rather enticing backside, Arthur thinks, while he lounges in his bed and watches Merlin putter around, cursing under his his breath.

“Don’t be such a whiny baby, Merlin,” Arthur chides and jawns, stretches and settles down again to have better line of sight. He threw his trousers into the far left corner of the room yesterday, knowing Merlin would have to bend over extra low so that his pants would stretch over his ass most beautifully.

And, just as predicted, it does. Arthur scratches his stomach absentmindedly, wishing for a moment he had the time to do something about the low stir of arousal that always accompanies this morning routine. Later, he promises himself, he’ll find the time to go through his favorite memories of Merlin’s backside and indulge in a long and lazy session with his hand.

When the show is over, Arthur stumbles out of bed reluctantly. His father waits for him, and given the mood Uther’s in lately, Arthur will do well to be punctual.

Merlin steps closer to help him out of his light sleeping pants and averts his eyes when he sees Arthur’s still half-erect. A slight blush creeps up his neck. Arthur has to keep himself from leaning in and taste the reddened skin. It’s been harder and harder lately to refrain from doing something about his little infatuation, but he’s a prince and he better learn to keep himself in check.

“It’s a normal, healthy physical occurrence, Merlin,” he grumbles, more to conceal his own indecent thoughts than to chastise Merlin, who ducks his head in reprimand all the same. Which bring his gaze back to Arthur’s middle.

Well.

Arthur’s dick twitches at the attention, leading to an even deeper blush on Merlin’s neck. It’s a vicious circle, Arthur thinks, and feels a little sorry for himself.

“Can we please go on with this? I have a meeting with my father.”

While Arthur tries to sound exasperated, it comes out more breathless than commanding. He’s digging his own grave here, because now he has to endure Merlin reaching for his clothes – again with his back to Arthur, dammit – and then help him into to the garments, each piece a teasing caress on his sensitive skin. More than once, one of Merlin’s hands brushes over an exposed part of his body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He’s not a trained servant after all, who would know that a touch like that is deemed indecent. Arthur’s not about to tell Merlin, though.

A vicious circle, indeed.

When they’re finally done, Arthur feels twitchy and too warm. It’s only when he finishes his breakfast and leaves for the throne hall that he realizes that Merlin didn’t talk back at him once. That – well, that has never happened before.

Curious.

* * *

“Rise and shine,” Merlin chirps the next morning, like every morning, and like every morning, Arthur wants to throw something at him. Something heavy.

Merlin cheerful greeting dragged him from the most pleasant dream.

Arthur can’t remember the details but it involved Merlin and a lot of naked skin and tangled bodies. He sighs. Today, his dick apparently decided to put on an even more prominent show, and merrily tents his whole blanket in a way that’s impossible to hide.

And Merlin, the little shit, has found his voice again.

“Had a nice dream?”, he has the audacity to ask while cocking an eyebrow at Arthur’s hips, before he starts his routine of cleaning the room.

Despite his chipper words, there’s that blush again. Arthur stares at him, as if, he stares hard enough, he’ll be able to look right into Merlin’s weird brain and find out what’s happening in there. A thought pierces through his sluggish contemplation.

Does Merlin _know_ what he _does_ to him?

Arthur tries to observe him a little closer, ignoring the haze of lust that still clouds his mind. Merlin seems to be extremely slow and very deliberate about his duties. Every piece of clothing, each plate is picked up with care – and surprisingly, every time Merlin’s back is turned to Arthur.

So that’s what’s happening here, Arthur thinks. His innocent servant is not that innocent after all, it seems.

Well, two can play that game. He stretches and jawns loudly to get Merlin’s attention, making sure that his blanket slides down his torso right to his belly button.

Merlin’s gaze is glued to the revealed stretch of skin. Good. Arthur rubs his chest and glides a hand down under the blanket, watching Merlin’s reaction from the corner of his eye.

He picks up the conversation again in the most neutral tone possible. “As a matter of fact, it _was_ a nice dream.” He cups his cock loosely, gives it the slightest tug that must be visible despite the blanket.

Merlin’s throat clicks when he swallows. Arthur feels like he just won a tournament.

“As you well know,” he goes on, “I don’t have much opportunity in the real world to, uhm, find release, so you wouldn’t begrudge me that small pleasure, would you, Merlin?” He closes his eyes and arcs his back a little, one part for show, one part because the situation really does turn him on.

Who would have known that he enjoys being the center of attention like this?

Everybody, Merlin and Morgana would answer.

Merlin, once again, has fallen silent. Arthur won’t have that. “Would you, Merlin?” he reiterates. Lower this time. He opens his eyes slowly to find Merlin frozen on the spot, his chest heaving with his fast breathing, eyes wide and dark and unsure, before he shakes himself out of his stupor.

“Would I _what_ , Sire?” Merlin croaks, and while he looks adorably out of his depth, some of the usual mischief starts to sparkle in his eyes.

Now it’s Arthur’s turn to be at a loss for words. The moment hangs heavy in the air, Arthur can almost taste it. Their eyes lock over the distance, both too stubborn to let it go, both too wary to take the next step. There’s a lot that hinges on these few minutes and Arthur is very aware that Merlin has so much more to lose whichever way they choose to proceed.

It’s pretty clear by now what they both want, and Arthur can be sure that Merlin would never play this game just to please him, it’s one of the reasons he’s grown to trust him as much as he does, to … like him as much as he does. But still, Merlin has every reason to be weary of him, because in Merlin’s position, one false step can end on the gallows.

So it’s on Arthur to make his intentions clear, isn’t it.

He tugs the blanket further down with his foot, exposing his cock that’s already glistening with wetness. Good, Merlin should see what he does to him. When Merlin lets his eyes wander over the newly visible parts of Arthur, he licks his lips like he’s starved, but he’s still not moving.

“Pick up some more clothes, Merlin,” Arthur orders.

Merlin grins, more confident now, because this is a game he knows to play apparently. He looks around, shrugs as if to say there’s nothing more to pick up, sorry. Which is a lie, there’s always something to pick up becaue Arthur, loath as he is to admit it, indeed _is_ a slob, but Arthur enjoys their little game too much to point that out. He circles his cock in a loose fist and moans at the contact, but even more because of they way Merlin’s eyes stay on him with burning focus.

Merlin pulls his shirt over his head and lets it fall to the ground next to him, before turning around and picking it up ever so slowly. He looks over his shoulder at Arthur as he straightens back up.

His pale, lithe body seems to glow in the early morning light. Arthur can’t wait to get his hands on it.

“Always so clumsy,” Arthur comments, “what about those pants?”

Merlin’s plush mouth widens into an awkward smile, before he bites his bottom lip. “I thought you could maybe help me with that, Sire.”

Arthur is out of the bed so fast he’s a little dizzy when he stops a few feet away from Merlin. He reaches out to smooth his hand over Merlin’s arm, exited to finally being able to touch that soft skin. His heart jumps a little when Merlin shudders under his caress. It’s that vulnerable, human reaction, that stops Arthur in his tracks.

“If you say the word, this stops here and now and we’ll never speak of it again,” Arthur forces himself to say. He’s in a position of power and he’d rather die than exploit it. The smile that draws out of Merlin is brighter than the sun pouring into the room and so full of affection that Arthur feels something cold and insecure inside him melt.

To make it worse, Merlin takes Arthur’s right hand and drops a kiss into his palm, and still says nothing, just tugs on the hand so Arthur almost falls against Merlin. They meet uncoordinated and in an awkward angle, but all of that is forgotten when Merlin’s lips cover his and Merlin sighs into the kiss as if he’s been under water for too long and only now able to breathe. It stays chaste and soft for exactly how long it takes Merlin to untangle their hands and tug Arthur closer by his naked hips.

Arthur’d always known submission wasn’t in Merlin’s nature, but he couldn’t have anticipated the heat and hunger that’s greeting him now.

There’s definitely no lack of pent-up desire on Arthur’s part, but Merlin is something else entirely. He claws at Arthur’s back and rocks their hips together, so that Arthur can feel the effect all of this is having on Merlin, too. A lot of effect, judging by the hot hard length that’s currently pressing into Arthur’s groin. And then Merlin’s hand finds it’s way into Arthur’s hair and curls into a possessive grip and all coherence leaves him with the not-quite-painful tug on bis scalp and the way Merlin’s tongue conquers his mouth and Arthur feels devoured, enveloped in the sheer need that’s pouring out of Merlin and into him until he can’t tell where one ends and the other starts.

His hands are trembling when he brings them to Merlin’s front and almost rips the tie off his trousers. Merlin grins a feral smile while biting down on Arthur’s bottom lip that says _see, it’s not that hard, Mylord_ , so clear that Arthur can hear it in his mind. He shoves the pants down harder than strictly necessary and takes Merlin cock in his hand, tight, with the single goal to shut him up.

It’s a success.

Merlin’s eyes fall shut, his mouth falls slack, and Arthur could slap himself for not doing this sooner, because it’s sight to behold, debauched and wanton, and he can’t wait to see what Merlin looks like when he fucks him.

They’re rutting against each other mindlessly, Merlin fucking Arthur’s fist, Arthur rocking into Merlin’s slender hip, leaving a trail of precome on his skin. The smell of sex and sweat is heavy in the air, and Arthur has the presence of mind for the whole of a second to wonder why they don’t take it to the bed.

There’ll be time for that later, tomorrow, because he already knows he won’t be able to let this be a one time thing, he’s already in too deep, falling for that insubordinate, big-hearted, thick-headed man in his arms.

Merlin dives in for another sloppy kiss, full of teeth and tongue and spit, while he grabs at Arthur’s ass and teases a finger between his cheeks, not doing anything really, nothing at all, but the implication is enough: a white hot flash of want is curling Arthur’s toes and almost makes his knees buckle.

So Merlin, of course, always inquisitive and relentless, does it again, presses the tip of his index finger lightly against Arthur’s entrance.

They both groan in unison. Arthur pumps his fist faster, spreading wetness over the head of Merlin’s cock with each stroke, before he catches them both in his palm, unable to hold back much longer.

It’s the feeling of them sliding against each other, the heat and the velvety texture of Merlin’s skin, that does him in. His orgasm strikes him like a tidal wave and sucks him under, stealing his breath with its force. His cock jerks in his fist, spitting out his release in thick spurts that land on Merlin’s stomach and his thighs. He trembles through it on wobbly knees, moaning helplessly with each pulse.

Merlin’s not far behind.

His hips snap forward into the tunnel of Arthur’s come-covered palm, and he’s murmuring Arthur’s name under his breath, again and again, as if it’s an ancient enchantment, sorcery older than time itself.

Arthur watches, transfixed, as the long line of Merlin’s body tightens, tendons and lithe muscle standing out against his pale skin, casting light and shadow over his figure, ethereally beautiful. Mine, some primal part of Arthur chants with Merlin, _mine_ , he thinks when Merlin tumbles over the edge and trembles under his hands and marks him up with his release.

They stand there and lean on each other while they fight to find their breath, both covered in each other’s come, covered in sweat, panting.

“Well,” Merlin croaks, “at least now you won’t have to scatter your clothes all over the room anymore just to ogle my ass.”

Arthur huffs a weak laugh. “Wrong,” he murmurs. “Now I’ll scatter yours alongside my own so I can ogle your ass while you’re naked.” He drags his thumb through the mess on Merlin’s stomach. “And I intend to do that on a regular basis.”

Merlin’s breath hitches just the tiniest bit at that but it makes Arthur look up and meet his eyes, recognizing the question in Merlin’s gaze and answering it more somber than he intended.

“For as long as you want me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [procasdeanating](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Come say hi!


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